African Child

I have had a poem forming in my head for a while, and the other day my parents and I came up with the perfect title ... African Child.
The reason it is so pertinent is because that is exactly who I am, as I write this I have my bushbaby jumping around my room, whilst the impala graze lazily, lethargically on the manicured green lawn. I am indeed an African child, the magic of Africa lies deep within me, buried within my innermost being, I love the contrasts of Africa, the way the sky is such a magnificent, vibrant blue, whilst the grass lies destitute and dying below. She is a special place, and has captured my heart.

Oi ! There's a pookie in my bookshelf !!